


Mayfair

by Lacerta26



Series: Appropriate Workplace Relationships [2]
Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-31
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-07-05 01:52:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15853803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lacerta26/pseuds/Lacerta26
Summary: Eggsy sets his jaw, defiant, because if he can get Harry to lose control he’d rather it was on his knees or on his back but he’s not above throwing a punch. Either this’ll be a fuck or a fight and he knows which one he wants, still isn’t sure which he’ll get. He interrupts, cocking an eyebrow as insolently as he can manage and says ‘we’re still here, Harry, I’m still here, I’m fine. I think you should take me to bed so I can prove it.'





	Mayfair

**Author's Note:**

> This is part two of my Appropriate Workplace Relationships series but you don't have to have read the first part get this, really.
> 
> There is more Eggsy/Roxy/Harry in the works if that's the reason you've ended up here!

Harry is striding away from him, tension evident in the set of his shoulders as he heads towards his office. Eggsy almost has to jog to keep up with his long legs. Those legs. Damnit.

‘Harry! Harry, listen to me!’ but Harry has already slammed into Arthur’s – Harry’s – office, ignoring him. When he makes it into the room, Harry is by the window, glaring steadily at the street below, breathing hard. He looks up sharply when Eggsy barges in.

‘Don’t you know how to knock?’

‘Harry…’ Eggsy begins, he’s ready to apologise, anything to make Harry stop looking at him like that but Harry rounds on him, stepping into his personal space, eyes furious. Eggsy knows Harry is dangerous, has seen what he can do, worked with him long enough to know what he’s capable of but its only ever been directed at him once before and it takes all the air out of him, triggers something defiant in him that won’t let go without a fight. When Harry speaks it’s low, measured, worse than shouting.

‘Do you have no respect for what we do? Do you really think I ask you to take orders for the good of my health? There are protocols for a reason, a hierarchy for a reason. It is not a joke or an adventure for you to go off half-cocked because you feel like showing off.’ 

‘I was not fucking showing off, Harry,’ he shouts, he’s not above it, ‘I had a hunch, no, I used my instincts, and I was bloody right. We got out, we’re fine.’ 

‘That is not the fucking point,’ Harry says, losing his composure, a finger jabbing into Eggsy’s chest, ‘we had good intelligence, it pays to follow it, you had no idea if your little gambit was going to pay off and it could have blown the whole mission,’ and quieter, ‘do you have no respect, even for me?’

And the thing is Eggsy would do anything for Harry, wants to do so many things for Harry. Just say how high and Eggsy’ll jump, how low and he’ll go to his knees. But he’s never been good at authority figures, ballsed up his marine training because he gave too much lip. Usually his teasing disobedience of Harry is fine. Is met with an affectionate roll of the eyes, a gentle reprimand and he _does_ have good instincts, Harry has complimented him on it before, why should this be so different?

Yeah, they’d been in a tight spot, attempting to infiltrate the base of a human trafficking operation to gather intel and he’d lost comms connection to Merlin as they fought their way to the offices proper. The last thing Harry had said to him was ‘follow the plan’ before heading towards the heart of the building. They’d already had to fight that far; the plan was out the window _surely_.  Eggsy was meant to cover his advance, make sure no _surviving_ security was following them but he’d glanced down a corridor and seen it was full of cells. They hadn’t been aware the organisation was keeping the victims of their operation at their HQ, they couldn’t just leave them there. They also hadn’t been aware that the building was wired to high heaven and could be set to go up at any minute. Or at least Eggsy hadn’t as he couldn’t hear the new info Merlin was feeding them. He got on a local connection with Harry and told him what he was planning to do but the head trafficker had heard, or guessed, and threatened to detonate that part of the building with himself and Harry safe in the main offices. Eggsy had ploughed on despite orders from Harry to stand down, correctly assuming the trafficker wouldn’t want to lose a huge majority of his ‘stock’ while he still thought he had a fighting chance. Bad intel that. Harry had killed him in 30 seconds flat. And they’d saved about 50 victims of modern slavery. Job done.

Harry is still jabbing him in the chest, hair falling from its usual neat style, still yelling, ‘you had no idea he’d hesitate, you ignored the mission objective to play the hero, ignored a direct order from a superior officer and could have got yourself killed. I could have lost you.’ 

Suddenly Eggsy sees it. Harry isn’t angry because Eggsy went off script, he’s angry because Eggsy put himself in danger. Which they do all the time but it’s controlled, planned for, backed up. Harry had to suddenly contend with the idea that he could lose Eggsy at any moment, unprepared for the possibility, because Eggsy had tried to be smart. And really Eggsy’s been half in love with Harry and half convinced Harry feels similarly for close to two years now. Two years of looks and touches and tension and Harry himself being ‘dead’ for _months_ and still neither of them have crossed that line and here’s Harry shouting at him, losing all his tightly wound control because, ‘I could have lost you.’

So, Eggsy sets his jaw, defiant, because if he can get Harry to lose control he’d rather it was on his knees or on his back but he’s not above throwing a punch. Either this’ll be a fuck or a fight and he knows which one he wants, still isn’t sure which he’ll get. He interrupts, cocking an eyebrow as insolently as he can manage and says ‘we’re still here, Harry, I’m still here, I’m fine. I think you should take me to bed so I can prove it.’ 

He gets one glorious second of Harry looking utterly wrong footed before he’s being hauled forward by the lapels of his jacket as Harry kisses him, deeply, fiercely, teeth and tongue and yearning. When they break apart, gasping for air, Harry bites out, ‘fuck going to bed I’m going to have you right here.’

‘Jesus, yes, Harry.’ 

Then they’re kissing again as Harry backs Eggsy towards the desk, hands going under his thighs to lift him up like it’s nothing, letter opener, paperweight, pens scattering. Eggsy wiggles back, legs going round Harry’s waist, pulling him closer. He shoves at Harry’s jacket, crumpled from the mission and now Eggsy’s pawing hands, ‘off, off, off.’

‘Weren’t we just discussing who gives the orders around here?’

‘Shut up, Harry.’

Harry just laughs, shoves his jacket off, gets to work on his tie, the buttons of his shirt. Eggsy leans back on his elbows ready to enjoy the view that isn’t a furtive glance out of the corner of his eyes when they end up at the gym together or have to change in the perfunctory, read: non-existent, privacy of a mission. Harry’s body isn’t showy like Eggsy’s, who has youth on his side, but strong and graceful, muscle built up to serve a purpose and maintained over a lifetime. If Eggsy looks half as good at Harry’s age he’ll be happy. Then Harry interrupts his ogling to nod towards the desk, ‘top drawer’ so Eggsy twists around to open it and scrabbles through letters and stamps to find –

’You keep lube and condoms in your office?’

‘A gentleman is always prepared, Eggsy,’ says Harry, shirtless, hands on his belt and Eggsy is ready with a quip about boy scouts but he’s suddenly aware they’re in Harry’s office, the door isn’t even locked and as much as this had seemed like it’d be a quick fuck across the desk Harry is already most of the way to starkers.

‘No one will come in, only you seem to have a problem with the concept of knocking,’ says Harry and it is so fucking infuriating that this man can see right through him like it’s nothing.

‘Shut _up_ ,  Harry,’ he says again sitting up, pulling Harry close once more to scrape his teeth against every bit of skin he can reach. Harry gets started on Eggsy’s shirt buttons, his cufflinks and then they’re skin to skin, gasping into each other’s mouths. Eggsy’s dick is so hard in his trousers and Harry is pressing closer between his thighs and it’s a perfect, searing connection, Harry hard against him, tongue licking into Eggsy’s mouth and he needs more, now.  He hops down off the desk hands to Harry’s belt as he toes off his own shoes and with no clear idea of how it happens they’re suddenly both naked pressed back over the desk, his legs back round Harry’s waist, Harry’s cock sliding deliciously against his own.

‘Shit, fuck, fuck me, Harry.’

‘Don’t worry, darling boy, I intend to,’ says Harry, voice rough, control finally slipping for the best fucking reason.

Eggsy’d imagined this, in many different iterations and he can’t say a furtive shag over a desk hadn’t been in there somewhere but this is beyond his casual daydreams. Every place Harry touches with fingers or tongue or teeth sends sparks flying under Eggsy’s skin. He feels overwhelmed like everything is both too much and not enough. Like he’ll go off in his trousers like the teenage boy he hasn’t been for the best part of a decade. If he was wearing trousers. Harry is pressing him gently back on to the desk and slowly heading south with light nips of his teeth over Eggsy’s nipples, stomach, the cut of his hip before ghosting a breath over his cock and raising the most entitled eyebrow Eggsy’s ever seen, ‘may I?’

‘Sure,’ says Eggsy, aiming for nonchalant and ending up somewhere in the region of anxious choir boy. Harry chuckles warmly, licking from Eggsy’s balls to the top of his cock in a warm, wet stripe before sucking lightly on the head in a way that has Eggsy’s head thunking back to the desk, lost to coherent thought. Harry sucks dick like it’s his job, all fancy flicks of his tongue on every up stroke, hollowing his cheeks, taking Eggsy too close, too soon and when the head of his prick hits the back of Harry’s throat he gasps, ‘Harry, Harry, stop. I wanna come with you inside me, Harry, please.’

He lets Harry manhandle him down off the desk and back over it, his chest pressed to quarterly reports and tech requisitions and isn’t Merlin going to be made up to get _those_ back. He hears the cap of the lube snick open and slick fingers are stroking down his arsecrack so he tips his hips, arches his back and, ‘Christ, Eggsy, what did I do to deserve this?’ says Harry pressing a kiss, reverent, to the nape of Eggsy’s neck and pressing one finger inside him, slowly. Harry’s fingers are as elegant as the rest of him, move with such purpose as he slips in and out of Eggsy’s body, pressing a thumb to the soft skin behind his balls, a deliberate tease. Eggsy’s whole body is singing, he feels filled up and hollowed out as Harry quickly presses in a second finger, moves faster, finding that place inside that makes Eggsy’s toes curl.

Eggsy can hear Harry’s breath hitching, so turned on by getting to touch him, to worship. And Eggsy loves it, he loves the way Harry always looks at him likes he’s a little bit divine, glowing under Harry’s praise, basking in something like devotion when Harry calls him ‘darling boy’. But that was before, that’s not what he wants now. So, he goes up on his tiptoes, presses back into Harry’s fingers and runs his mouth like this is some kind of bad porno ‘cause as much as Harry loves to polish up his diamond in the rough Eggsy knows he’s a sucker for a smart mouth, ‘fuck Harry, come on, I can take it, give it to me, I want to feel you in the back of my throat.’ Harry just groans and presses himself closer, palm flat between Eggsy’s shoulder blades as he slides in another finger alongside the others, splitting Eggsy open. Eggsy could come from this, he’s sure, so certain was he that this would never even happen it’s getting him there faster than usual. He wants to pour everything he’s felt but never said into the movement of their bodies, wants to prove that deep down, where it matters, Harry had his loyalty and his love. But he can’t think or move or speak, he can only take what Harry’s giving him, accept it without question, all the pieces of himself flying apart because he knows Harry will hold him together.

Then, all of a sudden, it’s gone. Harry has stepped back, there’s a cool breath of air across his back and he can feel his sweat cooling, the edge of the desk against his hip, Harry’s arms going round his chest and a warm voice in his ear, ‘turn around, darling, I want to see you.’ Eggsy sits back on the desk again, like this is some elaborate party game where the music will stop at any minute, heads or tails, win or lose, depending on which way he’s facing, and puts his hands under his knees, shameless, to spread himself open, give all of himself to Harry, head thrown back. He hears rather than sees Harry open the condom and Harry is finally, wonderfully, perfectly pressing the head of his dick to Eggsy’s hole and sliding home in one slick, unbroken press of hips. Eggsy sends a grateful thanks to his gymnastics coach from all those years ago as he folds himself practically in half, legs slung over Harry’s broad shoulders as Harry begins to move.

They’re both too far gone for this to last. Harry has an intense look on his face, one Eggsy has never seen before, eyes closed, and Eggsy has never been one to keep quiet in bed – or desk – but right now all he wants is to hear what this is doing to Harry. He pulls their faces together, forehead to forehead, so they can breathe the same air and says, dirty as you like, ‘c’mon Harry tell me, how’s it feel? You’re so good Harry, filling me up, making me take it.’ Harry opens his eyes, wild, ‘shit your mouth, Eggsy, you’re perfect – you’re – I -’ and it’s all abortive sounds and the beginnings of thoughts Harry can’t quite finish, control finally surrendered to the clutch of Eggsy’s body, the snap of their hips and their ragged breathing as Harry loses rhythm, lifting Eggsy bodily off the desk on every stroke.

‘Come on Harry, I wanna feel you come for me, come on, fill me up,’ says Eggsy and it takes all of his willpower to stave off his orgasm, to wait it out for Harry who shatters apart, coming hard, his face a snarl of pleasure, the most beautiful thing Eggsy’s ever seen. Eggsy takes a hold of his own dick then, stripping it fast as Harry jolts through the aftershocks, his cock twitching and softening inside Eggsy whose orgasm hits him like lightening, bright and shocking, painting them with come up to their collarbones.

Harry pulls out, legs almost going from under him as he gropes for a chair, collapsing heavily into one by the desk, arms open to welcome Eggsy on to his lap, kissing soft and sweet, hands in Eggsy’s hair as their breathing evens out.

‘Darling boy,’ Harry says, softly, ‘don’t scare me like that again.’

‘I’ll always come home to you Harry, as long as I can, that’s all I can promise you. That’s all _you_ can promise, you know that.’

‘I know, but I am the boss. At least pretend I can make you.’

Eggsy smiles, tucking his face under Harry’s chin, ‘of course, Harry.’

 

 

 


End file.
